Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

TezRyo Drabble

Not actually a new drabble - it just occurred to me that when Kish compiled her Master list from the incredibly awesome TezRyo drabble meme that I ought to post the lone drabble I managed to contribute here, so that it would be stored somewhere in one nice neat easy-to-read entry, rather than broken up into three comments courtesy of LiveJournal's comment character limit.  

If you haven't been by the drabble meme yet, I really recommend you drop by.  There were some really amazing drabbles posted, and it is something of a TezRyo overdose, should such a thing be possible.

Drabble under the cut.


It was the flickering lights that finally broke Tezuka’s attention. He glanced at the clock, surprised at the time. “It’s getting late.” The sun had set long ago, and now even the last vestiges of twilight had faded away into darkness. 
Ryoma glanced up from the ranking match order. “Your parents still aren’t back?”
“It’s an hour’s drive away. They’ll probably be a while yet. Are you hungry? My mother left some food in the fridge that I can reheat.”
Nodding his guest replied, “Sounds good. Can I use your bathroom?”
“Of course. Do you remember where it is?”
“Yeah.” Ryoma headed off down the hallway, and Tezuka made his way into the kitchen, removing the cling wrap from the pre-prepared dishes and placing them in the microwave. At least his mother always cooked too much for him – it should be more than enough for both teens.
Tezuka was returning to the living room to collect their used cups when suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness. He stood in silence for a moment, until he heard Ryoma’s voice off somewhere to his right – judging from the distance and direction, the freshman must have been leaving the bathroom when the power tripped. “Buchou?”
"Echizen," he replied, "The power's gone out."
He heard the faint shuffle of approaching footsteps, then a second later the feather touch of fingers brushing over his chest. His breath hitched in his throat when the hand returned a moment later, patting his chest then sliding up his shoulder, before sliding back down and grabbing a handful of fabric there.
"Heh, for a second there I thought you might be a curtain, buchou. I can't see anything - what about you?"
Tezuka thought that the question was rather pointless, given that after Kikumaru, Echizen easily had the best eyes on the team. "Nothing - the entire street must be out if there aren't even any streetlights."
“Che. It’s not even raining,” Echizen complained.
They stood there like that for a moment, Ryoma anchored to his jacket while Tezuka considered the best course of action. Finally, the senior decided, "There are some candles in the kitchen. We can use those for light."
It was easier said than done, of course. It was pitch-black, and Tezuka had to find his way by feeling for the walls uncertainly, with his kouhai shuffling along somewhat awkwardly behind him. 
“Watch out for the step to the right,” he warned. They were almost at the kitchen, but there was step down into the foyer next to it that guests nearly always tripped over.
His caution apparently came too late.  “Ah!” That brief, breathy exclamation was all the warning he received for the sudden violent tug on his jacket. Barely keeping his feet, Tezuka blindly reached for his companion, grabbing a fistful of fabric and pulling in the opposite direction. Echizen must have stumbled back into him, because he suddenly had an armful of freshman.
It felt like an electric shock passed through his body at the contact. There must have been a static charge lingering in the air, he reasoned to himself. He steadied them carefully, arm reaching for the wall. Wall, then a doorframe, then empty air. Ah, it looked like they were in the doorway to the kitchen. “Alright there, Echizen?” he asked as his guest took a cautious step back, extricating himself from Tezuka’s grasp. He found himself oddly disappointed at the removal of the contact. 
“Yeah, thanks buchou.”
“Give me you hand,” he ordered, figuring that it would be far easier to keep track of the freshman that way. He reached out searchingly with his right hand, halting when it came into contact with smooth flesh. Feeling more carefully now, he let his fingers trace down the skin, searching for a wrist. There was an unexpected delicate curve of bone, though, followed by a soft breath of warm air against his palm.
“Buchou?” came the uncertain query.
Oh, he’d temporarily forgotten how much shorter Ryoma was. He let his fingers linger a moment longer that he should have before letting his hand fall away from the other’s jaw, trying again and successfully finding a shoulder this time. A moment later, with Echizen’s fingers entwined with his, they were on their way again.
Tezuka guided their way in the darkness through the kitchen, feather touches on his kouhai’s shoulder keeping his guest from stumbling into the furniture. Eventually, he found a chair and pulled it out from the table, guiding the freshman to it. “Sit. The candles and matches should be in the drawer next to the sink.”
Feeling around in the dark, he eventually located several waxy, cylindrical shapes that felt like they were probably candles, and then spent another moment searching the bottom of the drawer for the matches. Eventually, a small box skated away from his touch. Picking it up and giving it a shake confirmed that it was what he was looking for. 
Tezuka awkwardly gathered the supplies and carefully made his way back to the table, guided by the steady sound of Ryoma’s quiet breathing – without the background drone of the refrigerator, every movement seemed unnaturally loud, and he could hear every rustle of shifting cloth when the other boy moved.
It was strange – his right hand that Echizen had been holding felt like it was humming with electricity even now. Fumbling with the matches, Tezuka finally managed to light a candle. He let out a sigh of relief as the dim orange glow spread to the edges of the kitchen, casting dark eerie shadows against the wall. Echizen was sitting across from him at the table, apparently unaware that his elbow was resting on a plate.
“I think the food was done before the power went, at least,” Tezuka recalled, heading to the microwave with much greater ease now that there was some light to guide the way. Sure enough, the food was still warm to the touch, though it had probably cooled some in the time it has taken him to get to it. It would do – who knew how long until the power would come back on? He divided it up into two portions, then grabbed drinks from the fridge, opening and closing it quickly to try and keep the cold air contained. 
“Sorry - it’s not the greatest cuisine, but it’s all I have on hand,” he apologised.
“This is fine,” Echizen dismissed, mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles. Tezuka felt his throat close up briefly. It was an odd thought to have, but when the candlelight turned Ryoma’s eyes gold and cast that soft glow on his skin, the only word running through his mind was ‘Beautiful’.
He gave himself a mental shake, suddenly embarrassed. 
“Especially since I wasn’t expecting a candlelit dinner when you invited me over, buchou.”
Tezuka could only hope that the dim light was enough to hide his blush.